


Step 1: Stop

by lizziepro



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6716239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizziepro/pseuds/lizziepro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why were there no recent photos of Cho Kyuhyun? Did no one want to remember him?...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Step 1: Stop

Kyuhyun sat on his bed, chewing at his thumbs.  
The door to his apartment balcony open, breeze blowing through tiny holes in the screen door, now locked, though no one could even scale to his floor.  
No one would be that determined.

It had stormed earlier, leaves rustling around and the smell of rain still lingering in the air.  
It was cool, refreshing, but Kyuhyun felt uneasy.

He'd been looking through photos, lately.  
Reminiscing on what had been, each one holding a different inevitable memory burst.

He'd been sad.

It wasn't that he did it on purpose, but it wasn't black and white.

Nothing is black and white.

He rolled onto his side, scrolling and scrolling through photos.  
Photos of him.  
Photos of his friends with him and without him.  
Photos of places around the world.  
Photos of meals from near and far.  
Photos of photos, even.  
Photos of women, men, children, and various other creatures.  
Photos of planets, galaxies, stars, celestial entities.  
Photos of nature, and all its glory.

But he still felt so uneasy.

He felt isolated, in this big place, filled with so many people.

He wanted to share his time with someone else, just sitting in the same room.  
A simple shared laugh, a nudge at a shoulder, an embrace.

He felt as though his existence in reality was slowly dwindling to nothing short of nothingness.  
Because there was no one around him he was comfortable with, truly so.

His family was far away, his friends were living their lives, and strangers, he assumed they would do the same.

He came across a photo from last October, a photo taken of him by his mother at a family gathering.  
He looked elated, eyes big and bright in the photo.

He was so used to being behind a camera, that he was always excited when someone wanted to snap a photo of him, with him, to remember him and that moment.

He wanted to be the one remembered for once, a passive user in this instance.

He was typically the active party, snapping photos for everyone else to view, to use for memories and general cheerful feelings.

He wanted photos to be taken of him.

He wanted to be the recipient of that action.

He wanted to be the person/memory that someone wanted to preserve forever on a film negative or a digital media card.

He wanted to be something someone would look at and gain cheerful feelings and a warm happiness from.

 

 

...............but that was silly, and selfish.

He knew it sounded selfish in his head, he knew it well.

How could he ask that of anyone, to be remembered? To be something that brings joy in a memory?

He didn't deserve it. There was obviously a reason people weren't near him now, that he couldn't seem to make any new friends...

He shut his laptop.

He was being mean to himself again, but he couldn't help but wonder...

Was he doing something wrong?

Countless circumstances pointed to a negative answer to that question, namely his current working situation and subsequent life choices, but still.

Everyone else seemed to manage it.

Pretty frequently.

Of course, he had to remind himself, rolling to the opposite side of his bed and wiping a stray tear in a pillow, that photography was more important to him than the average person.  
That what it meant, what photos held and could produce in him, was always different.

But it was important to him.

He let out a dry sob, chest heaving as if he'd just run around the block.

He swore he would get better about this. About being hard on himself. About letting go and just living without feeling helpless. About not dwelling on all he wanted to do.

All you can really do is live, and hope that destiny treats you well. There's control, but some things have less available to control than others.

This was stupid.

Kyuhyun felt stupid.

Kyuhyun felt alone.

Kyuhyun felt ashamed.

Kyuhyun was tired of this.

Kyuhyun was tired of feeling like he had to work to earn everything good, and tired of being disappointed in himself when he worked relentlessly and progress was still slow. He wasn't going to get a significant other or a plane ticket for a nice vacation or a real job in a day, and things have to fall into place.

Other people had these things, but those were others. Not him, for right now.

And that was okay.

He needed to stop beating himself up, and just live.

Just live his life as well as he could live it, and take well everything that came his way.

Just live.

For someone who believed so much in destiny, he wasn't very patient with letting it run its course.

He was allowed to be upset, but he needed to start working again. Working on being better towards himself. Being nicer. Being less expecting of ridiculous things. Being more accepting that he is only human, he can't change people, nor drastically change anything all at once. Being more accepting of time, and using it wisely.

Being okay with himself. Learning to love himself for who he is, all his quirks and imperfections, just as he loves others and every one of theirs.

It's a process, but all processes have steps, and he needed to start over.

Kyuhuyn sat up in his bed, wiping his eyes now puffy and red. He turned off his phone, took a sip of water, and sat there, staring out his balcony door.

Nature is a wonderful thing.

Its process unrelenting and constant, just like Kyuhyun's life and destiny. It was constant, and he was living it right now.

His pictures held memories of the past, and one day he will have more. Plenty more. Of people, places, things around him. But he had to keep moving. The pictures could come with him, but he was a constantly moving being, and this topic he was so stuck on, of being remembered, it mattered to him, a lot. He wanted to be an integral part of people's lives, to make them happy with his existence and memories shared with them brought up by photos, but he also had to keep living. Had to keep going, he was important. He was so important, and his life, whether people photographed him or not, was important.

And he had a series of steps to take when he needed a reminder, like now.

He started...

Step 1: stop.


End file.
